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Pirates, Privateers and Blockade Runners of the Chesapeake Bay - Part I Blackbeard by Cliff Rhys James

He was wiry and tall ~ very tall ~ some say as much as 6 feet, 5 inches tall. On the severe features of his face he wore a look of bottled-up fury, while from the chin of that face the ribbon-tied braids of his thick beard hung down to his chest. He was smart and devious, and he did his best work at dawn or dusk when the spare illumination of the thin half-light helped conceal his whereabouts on the water’s vast expanse. They say civilization ends at the

waterline. Beyond that lies something called the law of the sea. Further still, far from the rules of landed society, where ancient Neptune rules the ocean’s deep blue depths, each man enters the food chain, and not always at the top. Even at night, especially at night, the pirate’s wild eyes f lashed like those of a demon blasting out madness through the smoke and fire of slow-burning cannon wicks hanging down near his face from the brim of

Blackbeard was a fearsome sight. 153

January 2015 ttimes web magazine  

Tidewater Times January 2015

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